


Experiment #7913: Fae'alma

by SweetlyNeurotic



Series: The Adventures of a Dedicated Apothecary [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Battle for Darkshore, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26825611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetlyNeurotic/pseuds/SweetlyNeurotic
Summary: Azalian Duskweave's newest experiment requires field testing, luckily enough there is a war going on.Set between Legion-BFA, during the Battle for Darkshore. I tagged this with the TW:Rape tag as it is suggested during a scene, please see end notes for further details!
Relationships: Male Blood Elf | Elves/Male Night Elf | Elves (Warcraft), OC/OC
Series: The Adventures of a Dedicated Apothecary [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956679
Kudos: 4





	Experiment #7913: Fae'alma

**Author's Note:**

> The adventures continue! I'm really enjoying this little series I'm forming. There are more stories coming as well, please stay tuned! <
> 
> Again, TW-implied rape/non-consent.

“So, we are in agreement then? I'll only need about...twenty minutes? The toxin doesn't take long to go into effect after contact.”  
“Yes, Apothecary. I would feel more at ease if you were to take your Dark Ranger squadron with you for this...experiment, however.”  
“Velonara, please. You know I test better without an audience. Zyndra, Yzale, Faylenne, you have your assignments. We will rendezvous at Lor'danal Landing in exactly twenty minutes to join the final assault.” 

Azalian had turned to address the three Dark Rangers kneeling behind him, all three nodding at their commands as Velonara came round their small table covered in maps. Her hood perched on her head, she dismissed the four of them with a nod before taking her own leave of the group. The Priest spun his staff between fingers as he pulled a small circular metal object from inside his tunic, as small clasp being pushed to pop the compact open to reveal a mirror on one side and the bottom holding a sort of lavender balm of some time. Glancing over his face in the mirror, he caught Zyndra's gaze as the other two Rangers headed out of camp.

“You better tell me everything when we get back to Undercity.”

She chuckled with the Undeath silk-like hum in her voice, lightly rasping her gloved fist against his shoulder before jogging after her squad mates. Azalian returned the chuckle with an audible single 'Ha!', swatting at the Ranger as he in turn followed behind them. The Dark Rangers, normally his personal detail, were tasked with maintaining aerial support along the Lor'danal Landing from the trees while he had a more...direct manner to attend to.

A quick bend of his index fingers closed the compact and he slipped it into the space between his tunic and his shoulder for easier access as he began his own journey through Darkshore. He jogged his way off to the east from their main assault camp, slipping off the main path and into the darkness of the woods. Azalian always worked better in the dark.

~*~*~

They had lost the initial battle at Auberdine and Daendrin's entire unit was lost. The Horde had pushed them back, scattered into the trees and back towards Lor'danel. Clad in his ceremonial attire, the barely-clad Night Elf sat in a tree by the Lumber Mill trying to catch his breath and bandage a wound to his forearm. The wind smelled of fire and blood as it wafted through the trees around him, sending strands of deep blue hair bellowing to his side. It formed goosebumps across his bare skin, the cloth covering his groin the the leather strap across his bare chest barely providing warmth. They were defending their homeland, it mattered not what little clothing they wore. The Horde would not make it through Lor'danel.

Rustling below him caught his attention and he perched up on the branch, sword in hand as he sat like a cat waiting for the bird. They had made it this far already? Golden eyes narrowed as he waited for the sign of enemy approaching below him, the cloth flap covering his groin to the knee beating against the branch he was perched on as the wind blew. He took a breath as he prepared to pounce. 

What was that smell? Wild roses?

Daendrin took another short sniff of the wind, perplexed at the sudden scent of roses filled his senses. There were no wild roses in Darkshore, did the enemy wear perfume? To battle? He scoffed at the idea of such an amateur mistake. Suddenly the rustling stopped and the Warrior held his breath, had he been spotted? There was no doubt, the soft rustling broke out into the tell-tale signs of running, and Daendrin found himself leaping after the noise. He bounced from branch to branch in hunt of the creature, catching glimpses of his prey as he ran.

An elf, brunette, long hair, purples and blacks, staff. Judging from the way he held his weapon, either a healer or a inexperienced Mage of some kind. Easy target, he shouldn't have wandered out alone. 

He pounced once he saw his target fully exposed, leaping down from the tree as he caught the elf by surprise. He heard the elf cry out as he fell forward to the ground, staff falling from his hands and bouncing away to land in the roots of a tree before him. Daendrin stood over the now-visible Blood Elf, sword held high above him in preparation to sever the elf's head from his shoulders. Where was this rose scent coming from? He jammed a foot under the elf's side and pushed him to roll over, the elf now propped up on his elbows and staring up at him.

A young elf, long brunette messy from his sprint, shaking in fear beneath him as he gazed up at him through glowing violet eyes. Violet? It struck the Night Elf as odd of this elf having violet eyes than the normal blue or green, perhaps he was Arcane addicted. This damned scent of roses was becoming annoying. As Daendrin brought the sword up to begin his swing, the elf burst into tears and started waving his hands frantically. It caused the Warrior to stop his swing, raising a brow in surprise and curiosity. He'd never had someone beg for their life like this before, especially not from a Horde elf. 

Golden eyes watched as this healer looked around frantically, as if looking for something to appease him with before watching the thought visibly form in the smaller elf's mind. As if he was watching a painting being put to canvas, the thought seemed to cause the elf's eyes to well with tears once again. One of his small hands reached out, shaking as if a leaf in autumn, coming towards his person. He immediately drew his sword high again, but when the soft fingers danced across the skin of his abdominal and began a journey south, he came to understand the elf's idea.

Oh.

Daendrin huffed at the idea, sword still high in the air as the fingers slid across his indigo-hued skin. Could he trade this? His wife and child back in the Tree, they were why he was out here, protecting them was his goal. This rose scent was beginning to cloud his mind, the warrior reaching up to clasp at his forehead with his free hand trying to clear the scent from his nostrils. There was more rustling, his hands moved away from his forehead, he glanced down at the now upright elf sitting on the ground, watched as both soft hands placed themselves on his bare thighs. The warrior growled. The scent, whatever this elf wore, had an effect on him.

Daendrin nodded.

The healer, he surmised as as no mage has hands this soft, wasted no time in sliding those hands under the brown-and-silver lined flap covering his groin and palmed at his manhood hiding in the cloth below. They were separated by faction, by language, but by Elune did it feel to have another persons touch other than his own. It had been weeks since he had been put into the field and the lonely nights in the trees left him with no one but his own hand to comfort him. Daendrin huffed his enjoyment through his teeth, eyes wandering to make sure they were not spotted by either faction. His people would not tolerate this.

The chill of the night air caught his warmed flesh as the healer pulled his now semi-engorged length from place within his undergarment. Daendrin felt a twang of pride build as the other looked at it in amazement, tears still in his eyes as if pondering what to do with his sizable length. A toothy smirk formed on the Night Elf, lowering his sword arm down to rest as the other grabbed hold of the elf's head to inform him what to do.

Ah, the warmth of a mouth, it had been too long.

Daendrin hand guided the elf upon his decent onto his member, the soft hand rubbing at the sack of flesh hanging just below the base of his growing erection. The brunette coughed against him, hands leaving his testicles to grip at the bare thighs as he gagged around him. It pleased the Warrior deeply, so he pushed the little elf further until he was crying out around him. He laughed as he allowed the other to pull himself off his cock, gasping and coughing for air as saliva dripped from his open mouth. Flush faced and wet eyes gazed up at him with that violet glow, the scent of roses wafting over him as he pushed the elf back down onto his cock.

They stayed like this for some time, Daendrin working the elf's mouth as he sputtered and cried around his length. By Elune, if only more enemies begged like this. He humped into the slick cavern of the elf's mouth, at this point sliding his full erection easily down the Blood Elf's throat. A guttural growl slipped through his teeth, humping into the mouth and holding the elf's head against the band of his waist-flap buried deep in his throat. Another shrill of a cry came from the brunette before Daendrin pushed him off his cock and the healer collapsed to the ground breathless and dizzy.

He stood there, pumping his slick erection as he eyed the healer from head to foot. Clad in black and purples, he gazed upon the elf's plump backside and thought of his own idea. His wife would never know, and he'd never say a word regardless. He jammed his sword into the ground, the twang of the metal clashing against rock and alerted the healer to new motions. He actually tried to crawl away, Daendrin kneeling down to grab the elf by his waist and hoist him closer. Rough hands pushed and pulled at the fabric of his pants, the elf was speaking to him in his native language, it meant nothing to him now, lost in the scent of roses and this opportunity presented to him.

Daendrin pushed the elf into the ground with one hand and hoisted up his hips with the other, propping the small elf up on his knees as he finished disrobing him from the waist down. A pair of pale buttocks greeted him once the fabric was shoved down to his thighs, a pair of purple thong undergarments the last bit of interference from the healer's hole. The cheeks rippled as a small yank snapped the string in two and the Night Elf wasted no time in burying his slicked shaft into the squirming healers hole.

By Elune, he was tight. The cries of the healer only edged him further as he began to thrust roughly into him, hips snapping with force as he bounced the healer's backside against his hips. He ripped his waist-flap off and tossed it to the side, a leg bending up to perch himself as he rode out the Blood Elf's ass in his kneeling position. The sounds of their fucking filled the air around them as the elf loosened around him, Daendrin drinking in the sensations of fucking the Blood Elf and this rose scent. It intoxicated him and made his cock harder inside the elf, the healers gasps and moans. Golden eyes looked down to gaze over the figure of the elf, face seemingly buried in his hands below as he fucked him mercilessly. The Warrior enjoyed the sight, throwing his head back and let out a low moan.

There was shifting around Daendrin's cock that prompted him to return his gaze down from the night sky, seeing the now arched-back Blood Elf gazing back around at him through Felgreen eyes. Lips parts, slick with saliva, puffy from his mouth fucking, begging to be kissed. Daendrin allowed it as much, grabbing the elf's head and colliding their lips together. He tongued into the mouth he had be fucking, tasting the mixture of his own precum and the elf's musk as he snapped his hips into him. He released the kiss and the elf gave a satisfied cry out, bucking against the Night Elf to match the rate of his hips. He seemed to be enjoying it too. He was close to cumming and once he had, the elf would be killed anyway so there was no evidence-wait what color?

Felgreen eyes? They were violet only moments ago-

What came first was the stinging sensation. It spread out from every inch of his lips, invading the nerves of his face and seeping into every muscle. A hand pulled away from the bucking healer, to wipe at his lips, had he smeared poison oak on his mouth? When? He all but stopped his hip movement, the healer doing all the work now, continuing to milk him as the stinging began to turn into a burn. He could feel something moving through his face, as if through his veins, his nails scratching at his skin and lips to find the cause. A glint of something shimmering caught his attention, the burn now turning into pain, golden eyes narrowing as they caught sight of something on the ground next to them.

An opened compact lay on the group, a mirror on one flipped side and what looked like some kind of salve that appeared to have a fresh run-through of a finger on the other.

Oh Elune, what had he done to him?

Daendrin's ears caught the sound of moaning laughter as his face began to grow hot, the Night Elf pulling out of the healer abruptly as the pain began to feel crushing. He collapsed backwards, landing on his back and screaming out as he felt the skin around his mouth begin to break and peel. Nails pulled pieces of his skin off as he scratched at the source, feeling tendrils of something piercing through his flesh from the inside of his tissue. Blood began to pool in his mouth as he clawed—can't breath—his throat swelled from whatever was causing this venturing further through his head.

The scent of roses was gone. He knew what was happening now. Through the haze of pain, he watched as the healer crawled back into line of vision, smirking at him, remounting him, riding him through his torment. How was he still hard? Mind Control did this. Made him intoxicated with roses. Healer wasn't prey at all. He was the hunter. Daendrin was the prey. The healer rode him hard, watching his work intently as he edged the seed out from the Night Elf. Daendrin resisted, but there was something growing up from his throat making him lose focus, and he came inside the Blood Elf. Milky seed splattered the insides of the Priest, who shuddered around him as the world began to blacken. He never anticipated death like this.

The Blood Elf gazed down at him and winked slyly, satisfied in every way it seemed.  
Daendrin thought of his family in the tree in his last moments, praying to Elune they would not be as foolish as him as his arms collapsed to his sides. The vines finally sprouted out his mouth and the large bud of a flower began to form.

~*~*~

Dark Ranger Yzale hated being sent on retrievals. Sure, she was their squadrons best tracker but if the Apothecary needed more time then why should they interrupt? As she approached the area Apothecary Duskweave would be in, she leapt from tree-to-tree to quicken her stealth search. The main force was already pushing through Lor'danel and he was ten minutes past their meet-up time. Zyndra sent her to gather him up and make sure he was decent, whatever that meant. She found him sitting on the ground, thankfully fully clothed and scribbling into a scroll. He sat next to a dead Night Elf warrior, seemingly the cause was the large network of vines and single flower bursting from his bloodied mouth.

“Apothecary, sir.”

She landed beside him as she descended down from the branch, his focus not wavering as the blossom began to emit a low glow. She had never seen such a bloom in these lands before, nor even in Quel'thalas. “Sir, the main forces are already invading. Our Lady will be looking for us with the reserves on the beach.” She spoke to him yet gazed upon the dead Night Elf, wondering why his loincloth covering was draped over him and not tied around him.

“I think I shall call it...Fae'alma.”  
“A Soulbloom? How did it come to cause this Night Elfs death?”

“Quite simply, my dear. Through a mixture of Lichbloom, Netherbloom, Golden Lotus, and the pollen of a wilted Starflower I was able to create a serum that would produce plant-life using the very life energies of a living host as a sort of fertilizer. When I tested it on the loitering soldiers of the Scarlet Crusade, the blooms manifested in different ways depending on method of transference into the host. I deduced a more brilliant bloom would form through an orifice such as the mouth. The results were magnificent if I say so myself. While not practical in live combat, as I've currently been made to realize, it would do nicely during interrogations. Plus, they are quite lovely aren't they?” Azalian explained to the Dark Ranger as he snipped the bloom at the base of it's stem, holding the ghostly grey and blue Lily-like bloom in his palm. Yzale nodded and then helped him to his feet, lips pursed as if she begged to still understand something.

“Yet how did you get him to drink the potion?”  
“Oh, it wasn't a liquid transference. I mixed it into a balm and applied it on my lips before kissing the lad. Good thing I always inoculate myself with my own antidotes before every experiment.” He gave the Ranger a dashing smile before showing her the metal compact now living in his pocket. She gave him the most disturbed look before sighing and turning on her heel, beginning to head back to Lor'danel without so much of a word. Azalian followed suit for a few feet before stopping and turning partly, gazing upon the corpse of his Night Elf companion. His Mind Control always worked wonders, the rose scent merely a built-in tool to act as a compelling factor to further draw his prey in. Carnal desires are the easiest to play around with.

A hand slipped into his pocket again to place the compact back inside, but also withdrawing a small test tube filled nearly to the base the cork keeping its content contained. He swirled around the milky liquid inside, gave it a small kiss on the glass tube and re-pocketed it. He turned once again to follow after the Dark Ranger, the beach awaited.

“Night Elf semen should mix lovely with some Talador Orchid and Dreamleaf. Let's see if Talanye notices the new aphrodisiac I'll be brewing...”

**Author's Note:**

> So, the tag of implied-Rape/noncon was added to give warning as the scene had Daendrin thinking he was taking advantage of this weak elf/spoil of war but it was indeed all part of the plan. Just wanted to give the warning just in case! RIP Daendrin lol


End file.
